


Baited Hook

by wings128



Series: Pick A Number [7]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Blind Date, Crossover Pairings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 08:09:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1420927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wings128/pseuds/wings128
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Killian waits...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baited Hook

**Author's Note:**

  * For [millygal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/millygal/gifts).



> Written for millygal's prompt in the secret character meme over on LJ: _10 and 14 are on a blind date, where would they meet, what would they wear to make sure the other recognised them and how would the evening end?_
> 
> This was supposed to go a lot further, but as is the way of muses, this is all we’re getting. So rather than let it sit and cause me to fret, I’m sharing in the hopes that you’ll enjoy it as is.

He sat at the small square table no wider than the span of his spread thighs; his black shirt a stark contrast to the crisp softness of the cream cotton cloth. The low lit room with its polished wood, crystal, and blood-red leather, reeked of old money and the kind of pretensions he'd scoffed at, even when he'd lived this life. A life, that'd been ripped from his grasp by the petulant whims of a mere boy.

He shifted, the leather of his pants abrading with the leather of the tightly-curved wood chair that held him captive. If this guy was too much the bar wench, he'd leave after the first drink and save both face and the last of this world’s currency in his pocketbook. 

'Beg a trip to the privy and retreat,' he thought as he tugged at the frilled hem of his shirt sleeve – shorter than that of his coat, and failed to conceal where gloved wooden hand screwed onto useless stump. He would continue to conceal that piece of information, for it was a rare occasion when his lack of a left hand hadn't sent his companion scrabbling over the port bow.

He looked up from his thoughts at a movement in the door, only to meet the sharp intelligent eyes of a dark haired gent; neatly trimmed facial hair drew attention to full lips that seemed accustomed to wearing amusement and wit.

The man let his gaze drift lower; Killian felt heat sear his skin and his cock leap as scorched blood rushed to fill its thickening length. With an imperceptible nod, Killian acknowledged the inquiring brush long fingertips made over a red silk kerchief, and swallowed hard as his companion strode towards their table.

Up until now Killian had been uncertain of its seclusion, but as he stood to offer his good hand, he couldn’t have been more pleased. His pocketbook be damned; he’d be seeing this tryst through to its hopefully intimate conclusion.

“JollyR69?” Killian ducked his head, looked up through long lashes, in a move that hid his genuine embarrassment behind a practiced look, capable of devouring the recipient as they shook hands.

“IronArc?” He answered with his own query and a grin he couldn’t seem to stop showing.

“Tony,” the man offered as he signaled for two drinks and folded himself into the seat opposite.

“Killian,” he replied as he too squeezed back into his chair.

“Expensive never means comfortable,” Tony snarked, and Killian could not deny his desire for this one to still be entwined with him come morning’s light.


End file.
